


If They Really Want To

by Sirenidae



Category: Pacific Rim (2013)
Genre: Angst, Burns, Character Death Fix, Fix-It, Gen, Injury, Mild Language, One Shot, Permanent Injury, Physical Disability, Prompt Fic, Short
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-19
Updated: 2013-08-19
Packaged: 2017-12-24 01:08:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,215
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/933318
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sirenidae/pseuds/Sirenidae
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Its been three months since Chuck survived the explosion at the Breach, but his life hasn't gotten any easier.</p>
            </blockquote>





	If They Really Want To

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Miss_Six](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Miss_Six/gifts).



> Takes place three months after the end of Pacific Rim, in the medical wing of the Hong Kong shatterdome, sometime before it is decommissioned.
> 
> For tumblr user [beautimous](http://beautimous.tumblr.com) requesting from my [Pacific Rim Fic Prompt and Rec post](http://thebitchqueenofangmar.tumblr.com/post/58202833041/pacific-rim-fic-prompts-or-requests) on tumblr. Additionally request to have Frank Turner lyrics part of the prompt. The song is ["Recovery"](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=F1L5zJ2afLs).
> 
> View original post [here](http://thebitchqueenofangmar.tumblr.com/post/58713643517/if-they-really-want-to-for-beautimous).

The physical therapy room was empty but for a single patient and a physical therapy doctor near the far back wall. “Fuck!” the patient cried out. “I can’t do this.” His accent was Australian and his words were thick with pain.

“You can do this, Chuck,” the doctor said, hands outstretched to the injured man sitting on the padded examination table before him. “You did it yesterday.”

The man called Chuck frowned with his whole body. “That was yesterday. Today is different.”

The doctor nodded. “Exactly: a new day full of new possibilities. Come on, stand up.”

Chuck’s frown deepened at these words. “You’re a real pain in the ass, Feiyi,” he said, using the doctor’s given name. 

Doctor Cheng Feiyi chuckled. “Not just any pain in the ass,” he said. “Your ass. Stand up.”

“No.”

“Chuck…”

Chuck sighed. “Christ you don’t give up, do you?”

Feiyi eyed Chuck shrewdly. “Unlike you, apparently.”

Chuck jerked his head up at this, mouth hanging open indignantly. “That’s nice!” The doctor just shrugged.

“I tell it like it is.” Chuck grumbled something at this, which Feiyi didn’t catch. Feiyi rolled his eyes at his patient. “Chuck… Chuck look at me.” Chuck gritted his teeth but looked up at the doctor. “Someone with much more of a penchant for wise-sounding adages than me once said that ‘broken people can get better if they really want to’. Do you want to get better?” To this, Chuck had no answer. After a few more minutes of silence, Feiyi sighed. “Have it your way. I’ll be in my office if you decide to start pushing yourself.”

As Feiyi turned his back, Chuck started to get angry. “Hey, it’s only been three months, you know!”

The doctor didn’t turn to look back. “Exactly, it’s been three months.” Feiyi disappeared into his office and Chuck was left alone with his angry thoughts. The skin on the left side of his body itched. He tried not to scratch. He pushed himself up once, balancing his body weight on the palms of his hands, but then let go and sat back down on the examination table. He caught a glance of his wheelchair, the thing just out of his reach even if he leaned all the way over, which he tried.

“Damn it,” Chuck muttered. He tried again, swinging his body weight more to the side, putting him off-balance. A bark came from around the corner, accompanied by the sounds of clicking claws on the concrete ground. Marshall Hercules Hansen followed by Max the bulldog walked into the physical therapy room just in time to see Chuck almost fall to the ground trying to get his wheel chair. Chuck struggled to quickly get back to what he thought would be a normal looking sitting position.  ”Dad,” Chuck said, unable to disguise the sheepish quality to his voice. “I was just…” He let the sentence linger. He really had nothing to say.

Herc nodded curtly to his son, but his eyes were full of warmth. “I brought you a little gift,” Herc said with a smile. Chuck was grateful his father wasn’t going to mention the awkward acrobatics.  ”Well, more of a re-gift, you could say, of responsibility.” As if on cue, Max barked once and sloppily licked his snout, his bulldog face seeming to smile up at his master. Chuck was having none of the dog’s charm. He stared at his father.

"What do you mean? You know I can’t take care of him like…like this." Chuck gestured to all of his body and Herc frowned. 

"I was under the impression from Dr. Cheng that you were able… He sent me a memo earlier this week."

Chuck turned and shot a look at Feiyi’s office door. He could only guess that the doctor was listening and would be feeling far too pleased with himself right about now. “Isn’t that grand,” Chuck said through a very stiff jaw. He turned back to Herc. “You have to take him, Dad. He can’t stay here with me. Who would feed him? Walk him? I’m not up for the task.”

Herc bent down to Max who was happily panting up at the two men, drooling slightly and occasionally licking his nose: he woofed when Herc undid his leash. “Just keep him for a day, maybe two. See what happens. As for the walking, use your wheelchair to lead him.” Herc stood, carrying he leash over to where Chuck sat and handing it to his son. “Anyway, he’s your dog. He obeys you better than he ever does me.” Herc tried to search Chuck’s gaze for any minute detail of what his son was thinking but Chuck broke eye contact quickly.

"Whatever," he said dismissively, snatching the leash out of his father’s hands. Herc’s expression morphed into one of concern.

"Listen, if it’s honestly too much, I can take him back. It’s just that your doctor said…"

"No it’s fine," Chuck interrupted. "Leave him." The two men were caught in silence then, staring around the room, eyes landing everywhere but on each other. A phone rang in Fieyi’s office. 

"It’s good to see you," Herc said after a while.

"You say that every time," Chuck responded. 

"Well it’s true. I’m just glad to see you…alive."

Chuck’s chest suddenly squeezed tight over his heart and agitation set in. “It’s great to see you too, Dad,” he said in a falsely cheery and dismissive sort of tone. “Really great.”

Herc started. “Oh! Yeah, yes of course. I’ll get out of your hair.” He gave a brief, awkward smile to his son before turning to go. “I’ll come check on you boys tomorrow, see how the evening went?” Chuck just shrugged. Herc nodded a couple of times, patted the doorframe absentmindedly, then left. Once he was gone, Chuck relaxed; releasing a breath he hadn’t known he’d been holding. He looked down at his dog.

"Heya pup," he said to it. "How are you doing? Still got all your legs?" Chuck wished he could bend down and pat the dog. He was debating on how hard it would be to take off the prosthetic legs and fall to the floor when Feiyi came back out of his office.

"Sorry to cut our staring contest short today, Chuck," Feiyi winked, but Chuck saw urgency in his eyes. "But…" Feiyi’s voice broke. "But they found my boyfriend."

Chuck looked up, astonished. “He was missing, right? In one of the underground bunkers?” Feiyi nodded, distractedly gathering his personal effects around his office.

“He was in one of those detaining camps all this time, it took so long with all that stupid processing they had to do after…shit!” Feiyi’s hands were shaking so bad he dropped his messenger bag. Papers and folders spilled out onto the floor. Keys skittered across the tiles. Max made a move to go eat them.

“Max!” Chuck warned. “Stay!”

Feiyi laughed and grabbed the keys. “I’m sorry, I’m just… Well, you know.”

Chuck coughed at this, catching his breath clumsily in his throat. “You should go. It will take ages to get through all that paperwork. Just move my wheelchair closer and I’ll be sure to close the door when I leave.” Feiyi considered this for a moment and Chuck froze. “Please, Feiyi…”

Finally, the doctor nodded. “The world needs its heroes, Chuck. We all want to see you up and walking around.” Feiyi brought the chair closer to the table Chuck was on and then held out a hand to help him down. Chuck waved it away. 

"Oh, go on, then!" He said, smiling as Feiyi practically ran out of the room. Max barked a goodbye. Chuck’s grin faded slowly as his eyes remained on the door. He hoped Feiyi wouldn’t have to wait in line too long. He wished he could be there to see the reunion, clap Feiyi on the back and meet this boyfriend he had heard so much about.

“He’s always leaving me these stupid little poems around our apartment on mini pieces of paper… He’s such a loser,” Feiyi had said fondly to Chuck sometime after he started physical therapy. Feiyi had never been able to switch to the past tense, never been able to give up hope that his boyfriend was still alive, and it had paid off today. Chuck swallowed.

"Well Max, looks like it’s just you…oh no," Chuck interrupted himself. Max was wiggling his behind and had his tongue sticking out the far left side of his muzzle. "You have to pee? Are you serious, Dad?" Chuck called out to his father who wasn’t there. "You left me with Max knowing he needed a walk?" Max yelped his need and rage erupted through Chuck.

"Fuck you!" He yelled out to the empty air. Max began to bark. "You knew! You did this on purpose! God damn it!" Max kept barking. "Max, shut up!" Chuck roared at the canine, ending the dog’s last bark in a whine. "Stupid pup," Chuck muttered when Max was finally silent. Chuck watched as the bulldog wiggled his butt again. He knew how long it would take to get into his wheelchair and to get Max outside: too long. "Jesus," Chuck said, a nervous tremor to his voice. He lifted himself up on his palms again.

“The world needs its heroes, Chuck,” Feiyi’s words echoed in his head.

“Fine,” Chuck spat. “You want a fucking hero, I’ll give you a hero.” He slid his butt to the end of the examination table and gingerly tested out the footing of the prosthetics. Pain stabbed at his thighs. Chuck gritted his teeth, pushed himself up, and stood. He was wobbly on the two prosthetic limbs with his hands out for balance, trying to get used to the new sensation.

Chuck had refused the prosthetics for over a month, refused to believe that his own legs were gone, amputated because the bones were shattered beyond repair. Two weeks ago, Feiyi had finally convinced him that his best chance to regain a normal life lay with the prosthetics. Chuck wished he could have a Jaeger instead.

“If you had been practicing with the legs this whole time, it wouldn’t be so hard right now,” Feiyi had told him earlier that day. “I know it’s only been a couple of weeks, but you can do this.” Chuck frowned at the memory. He had been able to do it yesterday but he had used the double bar contraption to support his weight and help him take a few steps. He had yet to walk without support. All they wanted him to do was to just take a few steps, but each time he had failed.

Chuck caught a glimpse of his standing form in the mirror at the far side of the room and started. Two prosthetic legs jutted out oddly from the stumps of his thighs. He was wearing training shorts and a PPDC regulation tank that was dark with sweat. The skin that showed were patches of raw, angry looking burns, the flesh twisting and wrinkled and scarred from the grafts. Chuck made a noise somewhere between a sob and a gasp and looked away from the mirror.

“Just a few steps,” Chuck said, trying to get pumped up. His brain sent a signal to bend a knee that wasn’t there and Chuck let out a harsh giggle that sounded mildly deranged. “Up, lift,” he ordered himself, speaking out loud to help his mind work through this problem of using the new legs.

“It’s only one step over to the chair. Go.” His weight shifted to the right and he picked up the left leg and set it down. The pain was tremendous. Crying out, Chuck lost his balance and crashed to the floor in a heap. Max barked loudly but the noise of the worried dog sounded quiet, almost muffled, to Chuck’s ears. He rolled over onto his back and stared up at the ceiling, not bothering to shush his pet.

“Why did he have to save me?” Chuck whimpered out loud. He didn’t know if he was talking about Herc with his mother or Stacker at the Breach, but it had been his life that was spared both times: his own worthless, pathetic life. Why him? It was always him. People kept choosing him to save, kept choosing to give a chance to the egotistical jerk with daddy issues. He wasn’t worth it. He wasn’t worth half the man Stacker had been and he didn’t come close to measuring up against his mother. Chuck began to cry; silently letting the tears spill over his cheeks. Max stopped barking and waddled up to Chuck’s face, licking at the salty water.

"I’m sorry, Max," Chuck said. " I can’t do this." He looked into his dog’s eyes and felt his gut squeeze with guilt. "I just can’t." Chuck pushed the dog away.

“The world needs its heroes, Chuck.” Feiyi’s voice came to his mind again.

"I’m not a hero!" Chuck cried out to the room. Max whined. "I’m not a damn hero," he repeated softly, lying defeated and broken on the floor. Beside him, Max barked once, whined again, and peed on the tiles at the back of the physical therapy room.


End file.
